A Pirate Carol
by onceuponajollyroger
Summary: Two days after Milah's death, a suicidal Killian receives a visit from an unexpected caller. Killian is told that he will be visited by three ghosts who then proceed to take him on a Dickensian ride through the past, present, and future. Along the way, Killian rediscovers his purpose in life and finds renewed hope. Ships: Captain Swan and Millian (Tagged CS for later parts.)
1. Chapter 1

Killian tossed and turned in bed, covered in sweat, his whole body writhing in pain. He wished he were dead. Moonlight shone in through the windows of his cabin, giving his quarters a calm and peaceful ambience, but this did little to soothe the rage in his soul. Even though he was facing the wall, he could feel Smee's gaze burning into his back, burning him up even more. Why wouldn't Smee just leave him alone? He's a grow man damn it; he has no need of a nanny. "Sir," came the small, timid voice of his newest, and already quite faithful, recruit.

"Smee. Really, I just want to be alone. Call me when they've finished my brace," Killian replied a bitter growl in his voice. Smee sighed knowing better than to argue with the captain and quickly exited the cabin.

Killian rolled over in his bed and sighed as he looked at the sheets: light red sheets with brown and cream colored pillows: all earth tones and natural, just like his Milah. He'd let her redecorate in an effort to cheer her up a few months after they had run off together. Milah had been especially sad and missing Bae at the time. Killian thought redecorating the cabin was the best way to cheer her up and help her feel more at home aboard the Jolly Roger. Now he was stuck with these sheets, which served as another cruel reminder of Milah and his loss, for he knew that he would never be able to change the décor she had specifically chosen, the sheets that represented their life together. He grabbed a pillow and brought it closer to his face. He could still smell her distinct scent, a mixture of flowers and the sea, on the fabric. The ache in his heart matched the agonizing pain radiating from the swollen stub at the end of his arm.

Killian rose from his bed, wobbling a tad due to his weak state and began to slowly pace around the cabin. The floorboards creaked as he shuffled around the room. Killian held his wounded arm to him tightly, hoping to relieve some of the pain by applying more pressure. He wanted Milah. He wanted her to be there to take care of him like she had in the past whenever he'd gotten sick. She would insist of him staying in bed even if he was starting to feel better. She would apply a cold rag to his forehead and give him gentle, comforting kisses as if she could kiss away his illness. She probably could he thought with a chuckle. He continued to pace and found himself staring at his bookshelf. Oftentimes, when they were spending long days at sea between ports, Milah would get restless, aching for adventure. Killian would read her stories of lands far off and promise to take her to visit each one. He would never get to read to her again; she would not get to travel the realms with him. He picked up a half-empty rum bottle on his desk and drained it of its contents in one large gulp. He wiped his mouth angrily against his arm before throwing the empty glass bottle against the wall. The sound of it shattering and the sight of glimmering glass pieces on the ground gave him an odd sense of comfort.

His eyes burned sharp with unshed tears, but he refused to give in to them. He refused to show his weakness. First he lost Liam and spent years of his life bitterly pursuing revenge against the king who had stolen his brother's life. When Milah came into his life he found renewed hope, purpose. But now she was gone too, gone forever because he was too weak to stop that bastard crocodile. Maybe he should just end his life: end his pain, misery, and loneliness forever. He could probably fall on his sword, but that could result in a slow death, and then he'd be in even more agony. Poison could be a better solution. He ran through his options, attempting to take deep breaths in order to manage his pain. He was desperate for sleep. He hadn't slept well since her death, and his deprivation was driving him mad. Every time he closed his eyes in an attempt to sleep though, he saw her death over and over again and the wicked smile of the crocodile. The high-pitched cackle of the crocodile relentlessly echoed in his ears.

Killian made his way back into his bed, and just as he was beginning to drift away, he was disturbed by a faint blue glow floating through the air of his cabin. Groggily, he turned over to get a better look at the intruder, ready to bite the head off of whichever crewmember had delayed his much needed sleep. As the floating figure approached, he began to make out its shape. It appeared to be some sort of woman bug. Bloody fantastic, he thought. Now the pain was causing him to hallucinate, and he wasn't even having _good_ hallucinations at that.

Killian let out a pained breath as he slowly sat up in his bed and reached down for his boot. He hurled it at the insect with all his force, grunting with the effort. The bug swerved to avoid the shoe then flew up right into his face, so he was staring into the dark eyes and light brown, curly hair of a woman. "_Killian Jones_, if you don't mind, I would appreciate it if you would cease throwing shoes at me," she said in a stern, but sickly sweet, voice.

He just sat in his bed, stunned, with his mouth agape as he tried to wrap his mind around what was happening. A bloody bug-woman was scolding him. This is what his life had become. He was sending Smee for the poison in the morning.

"What are you doing here, _bug_?" he asked, vitriol dripping from his voice.

She gave him a small, patient smile before answering. "I'm a _fairy_. It's my job to help you find your happy ending. I'm here to-"

Killian cut her off before she could continue. His voice bitter as he scoffed in annoyance, "Well, you're a little late then. My happy ending _ended_ two days ago when a crocodile took my hand from me-" He faltered for a minute. His heart was hammering painfully in his chest and his eyes burned, tears threatening to escape. He paused to collect himself before he continued in just a whisper, "and my love."

"Your happy ending isn't lost, Killian-"

"A bit informal, aren't we? I prefer _captain_," he bit back fiercely.

The blue bug sighed in annoyance before schooling her features and throwing back on her smile. Killian thought it was definitely too sweet, quite forced, but he didn't comment.

"Captain, your happy ending is out there waiting for you. You just have to hold onto hope and continue to have faith. If you kill yourself now, you'll miss out on great happiness," she said sweetly.

Killian stared at her, confusion etched on his face. "How did you know-"

The Blue Fairy cut him off before he could voice his query. "I know many things, Captain Jones. Now, tonight you will be visited by three ghosts: one from your past, one from your present, and one from your future. And then I think you'll see that you have something to live for after all." She lifted her head and straightened herself a bit, confidence oozing from her.

"Ghosts? Have you gone daft?" he asked incredulously. Then he sighed and continued in a conceding voice, "Well, I am the one here talking to a bug."

The Blue Fairy let out an exasperated huff. She had clearly lost her patience with the pirate captain. "Fairy!" she yelled at him.

"Bug!" Killian shot back, a mischievous grin on his face. He clearly enjoyed riling up the fairy.

Blue rolled her eyes before continuing in a curt voice. "The first one will be here at midnight." She began to fly away before stopping at the window and slowly turning back to face Killian. Her earlier annoyance tamed, she looked at him with understanding and said quietly, "Take care of yourself, Killian. The pain in your hand _and in your heart_ will fade with time." With that, the fairy finally flew out of the window leaving Killian alone with his thoughts.

He stayed seated in his bed completely dumbfounded by the encounter. Killian shook his head, admitting to himself that the strange encounter had at least distracted him from the pain for a while. Though he was still quite certain he had been hallucinating. He groaned loudly before talking out loud to himself. "That's it Killian. No more rum."

He reclined back in his bed determined to sleep. At least in his sleep he could get away from the physical pain; he knew well enough that the nightmares would still be waiting for him. Killian closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

After an hour, maybe two, Killian couldn't quite tell, he was roused awake by the sound of rustling in his cabin. Another intruder, he thought. This person would feel the full force of his wrath. He may be down a hand, but he could still wield a sword. Killian threw back his sheets in an angry huff and jumped from his bed, his heated words caught in his throat when he began to look at the person more carefully.

A man with brown curly hair had his back to Killian as he peeked around the cabin, examining his surroundings. He wore a blue and white naval uniform. "I like what you've done with the place," he said, back still turned to Killian.

It didn't matter that he couldn't see the intruder's face; Killian would recognize that voice anywhere. He hadn't heard it in years, and he was often kept awake at night trying desperate to recall his memories of the voice for fear that he would lose it forever.

"Liam?"


	2. Chapter 2

He was standing there in the corner of the cabin where Killian last held him in his arms, crying out for help as his brother slipped away, powerless to help the man who had spent his whole life caring for him.

The brawny man spun around on his heels meeting Killian's overwhelmed and confused face. "I like what you've done to the place, brother," he said cheekily, gesturing towards the cabin. "Though, I suspect Milah had a hand in choosing the color scheme." He added with a chuckle as he gave his younger brother a beaming smile.

Killian just stood there stunned in silence. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. For years and years he had dreamed of nothing else but seeing his brother's face again, and now here he was standing before him. This was impossible. Surely ghosts could not come back from the dead, but here Liam was, and as much as Killian didn't believe what he was seeing, every fiber in his being wanted to believe it. Killian wanted, he _needed_, Liam to be here, to be real.

Killian continued to stand there staring at his brother with a disbelieving, but utterly hopeful face, as Liam strode across the cabin. Liam grabbed Killian and pulled his younger brother into a tight embrace. Killian rested his head against Liam's shoulders. He felt so small in his brother's arms as if he were a child again. When he was a young lad whenever he was hurt, sad, or scared, Killian would call out to Liam, and Liam would envelop him in a tight hug, promising that everything would be alright. Killian felt like that boy again, like all of his problems, all of his pain, would just disappear as long as he stayed with Liam.

Liam pulled away to stare into Killian's eyes, getting a better look at his brother's face. "I've missed you, little brother," he said ruffling Killian's hair and patting him hard on the shoulder. "Gods, last time I saw you, you were a boyish leftenant, and now look at you, a grown man. A captain," he said proudly his eyes looking Killian up and down in inspection.

Killian let out a shaky breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in as he nervously scratched behind his ear and licked his lips. He took a tentative step away from Liam before finally speaking to his brother. "I am so happy to see you brother, but how…how can this be?"

"Didn't you listen to that fairy from earlier? You're stubborn as always I see," Liam wagged his finger in mock reprimand, "but our time is limited, and we need to be on our way," his brother said firmly. Liam still had that air of authority and power that always had Killian following his every order.

Killian rubbed his tired eyes, still somewhat in disbelief. Liam came over and grabbed him by the arm. His brother definitely looked alive, and Killian could touch him, but there was a faint while light radiating off of his form that undoubtedly gave the sense of a heavenly being. Liam pulled him along urging Killian to walk with him. Just as the two were about to walk into the wall at the other end of the cabin, they were abruptly whisked away.

The brothers were now standing in a small room in what appeared to be an inn. A heavily weathered window looked out over a portside town. The walls were cream colored and the floors were flanked with old wooden floorboards that didn't quite match. The dim glow of a candle sitting on a small end table adjacent to a tiny bed was the only light in the dark room. The distinct scent, a mixture of must from the run-down inn and salt air from their proximity to the sea, was achingly familiar.

Killian pondered his surroundings searching his memory in hopes of placing this scene when he caught sight of shadows against the wall, the larger shadow cradling the smaller one. A whimpering voice interrupted the eerie silence filling the room. "I woke up one morning and he was…he was," the boy's voice cracked, and with it Killian felt his own heart cracking as recognition set in at last. Why had Liam brought him _here_, to this time? Why were they reopening old wounds?

"He was gone," the boy finally managed to spit out in a murmur, his blue eyes glistening with tears. The older figure held the small boy tightly in his arms as they both sat in the bed. The man, if you could really call him that, brushed his hands through the boy's unruly, dark hair rocking him gently.

"I'm here now, Killian. I'm here, and I'll never leave you," the young Liam whispered softly. He was no more than eighteen himself, still a boy in many ways, and now here he was the sole caretaker of his young brother.

Killian gazed longingly, _jealously_, at the scene, his heart filling with a sense of despair and betrayal. Killian's features contorted into a grimace before he turned to Liam and jabbed an accusing finger at him. "You lied. You lied…damn you-" but before he could finish his brother pulled him roughly into a tight embrace. Liam brushed his hand over Killian's raven hair, their actions nearly mirroring those of their past counterparts.

Killian pulled away and turned his back to Liam, taking a minute to collect himself. A few stray tears had escaped of their own accord, and Killian didn't want his well-built exterior to falter entirely before his brother's eyes. He wasn't that little boy anymore who was allowed to feel freely; he was a grown man, hardened by years at sea. A captain didn't show such weakness, especially not a pirate.

In a defeated voice, he intoned, "Why here, why this time, Liam? Surely you were not sent to bring me more pain."

Liam huffed out in exaggeration before responding sarcastically. "Must I explain _everything_? You used to be the smart brother, Killian. What the devil happened?" he asked with a weak chuckle.

Killian finally turned to face him again, appreciating Liam's unsuccessful, but thoughtful, attempt at adding levity to the situation.

"The loss of Father was painful, devastating, but you pulled through, and ultimately it brought us together. My death was difficult, but you also overcame that and it set you on a path that led to Milah. Her death is tragic, heartbreaking, but you will prevail as you always do, and it _will_ lead you to happiness." Liam met Killian's eyes, imploring his stubborn brother to believe his words.

Killian bit his lip angrily, not at all impressed by his brother's speech. "We're here to count up my losses then, are we?" he asked caustically.

Liam sighed and mustered his patience. "We're here because you need reminding that you, Killian Jones, are good at surviving."

Killian considered his brother's words for a few minutes, unhappily recalling the many devastating losses he had endured over his life. "Aye, you're right, brother," Killian conceded.

Liam clapped Killian on the shoulder, gesturing for him to walk again. "Come brother, we have another place to be."

"Let's choose one with a better view this time," Killian responded with a joking grin.

Liam smirked back. "Aye, you were a funny-looking child."

Killian furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched his nose in defiance. Before he could come up with a witty retort though, his senses took in the scene around him and noticed that they were back aboard a vessel.

Suddenly they had appeared on the deck of the Jolly Roger, but not when the ship was called the Jolly. Killian took in the sight about him: bright white sails and nearly unblemished wood furnished the deck of the Jewel of the Realm. Gone were the loose floorboards, scratches, and tears from storms and skirmishes experienced over the years.

Sailors were bustling about busily seeming to pay no attention to the two brothers who appeared above deck.

"Where are we?" Killian asked tentatively.

"_When_ are we is the question you ought to be asking, brother. Look around you. Isn't this familiar?" Liam responded.

Killian took a moment to gaze about at his surroundings, realizing exactly what day this was just as his and Liam's counterparts from this time strode aboard the ship. The Liam of this time was gesturing towards the ship proudly as he appeared to be explaining something to Killian. This time's Killian was fidgeting nervously, scratching behind his ear and yanking at his uniform in an attempt to keep it straight.

Killian chuckled before turning to Liam. "Of course. This is the first day I sailed under your command as a member of the king's navy. Fresh out of training. Gods, I was so nervous. I look like such a silly git tugging at my uniform like that," he said pointing to himself. His face reddened slightly with embarrassment at seeing his younger self behaving so boyishly.

"I was nervous too, though I did a better job of masking it. I wanted to make sure and put on a proper show for my baby brother," Liam said with an understanding smile. The two looked happily on at their counterparts for a few moments, before Liam roused them from their nostalgia.

He pointed up at the sky far off in the distance; dark gray clouds were just barely visible from their viewpoint. "You remember what will happen today, too, do you not?" Liam asked with the raise of his eyebrow.

Killian nodded his head recalling the memory. "We're about to sail into a storm," he answered.

"And…" Liam said waving his hand in a circle, gesturing for his brother to continue.

"And we're able to navigate out of the storm safely. Not a man lost at sea," Killian added.

Liam shook his head, a small frown pulling at the corner of his mouth. "If it was humility, I could excuse you, brother, but your self-loathing has caused you to leave out the most important details. _You _navigate us out of that storm. _You_ save the lives of all men aboard this ship with your skill and quick mind. You were a bloody _hero_, and it is this day that you rightfully earn your promotion to leftenant."

"Aye, this is where I was the heroic sailor and earned my merits. What does this really matter, though? Why are we here?" Killian asked in an attempt to brush off his brother's praise. Praise he was unworthy of receiving. It is aboard this very deck that he will shed his naval uniform and dedicate his life to piracy and revenge, going against every lesson his brother had ever taught him.

Liam frowned and huffed out a breath in frustration. "You think you've lost that Killian, but you haven't. I-"

Killian interrupted his brother, unable to hold back the thoughts that had been plaguing his mind ever since his brother returned. "Liam, you mentioned Milah back in the cabin, which means that wherever you were, whatever afterlife you've existed in, you knew what I was doing. Aye?"

"Yes, that is correct, brother," Liam answered hesitantly, unsure of where Killian was headed with his question.

Killian let out a nervous sigh. He noticed that the crippling pain that had been radiating from his newly formed stump had ceased during this trip to the past. For the first time in two days he could breathe easier, but it didn't relieve his inner turmoil.

Killian turned away, unable to look his brother in the eye as he finally responded. "I can't imagine what you must think of me, brother, turning to piracy. You must be…_ashamed_," he spit out bitterly before finally turning back to face Liam.

Liam shook his head, placing both hands on Killian's shoulders before purposely catching his gaze. "I could never be ashamed of you brother. You've lost your way, yes, but you will find your path again. I have full confidence in you," Liam said sternly, giving his brother a gentle shake in an attempt to force Killian to believe him, to take his words to heart.

Liam turned his attention back to the sailors scuttling about the Jewel of the Realm, paying special attention to himself and Killian of this time. He caught sight of this time's version of his younger brother. He chuckled and pointed to Killian. "If this visit to the past leaves you with anything brother, I hope it's the peace of mind that your haircut has improved greatly over the years."

They both laughed freely, and Killian felt instantly lighter, unburdened. He'd missed this- laughing with his brother, being teased, spending time with Liam.

After a few minutes spent happily looking on at their younger selves and reminiscing, Liam gave his brother a pained, guilty look. "Killian, I have to get you back now. Our time is nearly up."

"Can't we just stay here for a little longer, Liam. Please," Killian implored.

Liam shook his head. "I'm afraid we cannot. We have to get you back before your next caller. Come now, brother."

Liam grabbed Killian's arm and waved his hand in the air. The two instantly reappeared below deck in the captain's quarters of the Jolly Roger.

Killian slowly made his way back to his bed and plopped down loudly in frustration. He didn't want his time with Liam to end.

"Don't look like such a mope, brother," Liam teased cocking an eyebrow and shooting him a grin.

Killian smiled back feebly. "I'll miss you, brother."

Liam nodded his head in agreement. "And I, you. Goodbye, _little_ brother."

Liam paused and gave Killian a sincere look before imparting a final message. "You can still be a hero, Killian. I have not lost faith in you. _I_ would follow _you_ to the ends of the earth," and with that, Liam vanished in a burst of blinding white light.

Killian blinked back furiously in response, the blast burning his eyes. He finally opened them to see that he was alone in his cabin. Not a trace was left of Liam's visit. Killian had lost his brother all over again.


	3. Chapter 3

Killian lay in his bed staring up at the ceiling of the cabin desperately clutching his injured arm to his chest. The pain had returned shortly after Liam left: the universe's way of cruelly twisting the knife, Killian thought spitefully. He slammed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, furiously trying to drive the burning sensation away. Liam's departure only made managing his pain more difficult. Killian already longed to have his brother back again.

The pain would go away again soon, he assured himself. The bug, _fairy_, said Killian would be visited by three ghosts, and his time with Liam was cut short because he was due to meet his second caller. Killian was almost certain of who would appear in his cabin, and the thought both excited and terrified him. A ghost from his present would surely mean Milah, and gods did he wish to see her again. If only he could look upon those brown curls and beautiful gray eyes once more. To hear her laugh, to be the one to make her laugh, if only for a short time again, would truly be a gift. _But_, a darker voice reminded him, Milah was dead, and she was dead because of him, because he wasn't strong enough to protect her, to save her from the crocodile. Could he even look his love in the eyes again after letting her down, letting her die? Killian placed his hand against his cheek; he could still feel the ghostly brush of her fingers against his face as he held her in his arms for the last time.

_No_, he couldn't think about this now. This was too much; this was all too much to bear. He reached above his head to the windowsill looking out over the water and grabbed another rum bottle. He would drown these thoughts out his head, one gulp at a time.

After successfully drinking himself into a heavy sleep, Killian was roused by a calming sensation, light as a feather, against his forehead. He popped an eye open to find that his speculation had been correct. As he laid eyes upon his love, a smile overtook his face. There she was sitting by his side: vibrant, radiant, and lively, a pleasant contrast to when she was last in his arms. The moonlight beamed into the cabin illuminating her face causing her brown curls to shine. She was wearing the same red and black leather outfit she had worn two days ago. His guilt forgotten for the time being, Killian sat up and reached for her. Killian's face broke into a toothy smile as pure elation filled him. She was _here_.

Killian squeezed her tightly resting his head on her shoulder and nestling his face into her hair. He breathed in deeply, his nose capturing her scent, a beautiful blend of salt and flowers that instantly relaxed him. She looked the same, felt the same, and even smelled the same. Maybe if he just kept holding her tightly, he would wake up and find out that this, her death, had all been a terrible, terrible nightmare.

Milah pulled away from him to sit back in the chair adjacent to his bed as she gestured for him to sit back down as well. "My love, how can I possibly rest when I know you're here hurting? My poor Killian, this is all my fault." Killian was so mesmerized by the sweet sound of her voice, a sound he feared he would never hear again, that he forgot to respond at first.

"No!" Killian finally exclaimed in a tone that was a mix of insistence and anger. "The crocodile did this to you, to me," he spit out.

Milah shook her head clearly dismayed by her former lover's words. "I wish I could extinguish the raging fire in your heart, but unfortunately you need it for your next journey," she said as she looked down at him sadly. Her eyes were set in his direction, but her mind and thoughts were clearly elsewhere.

Killian furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "I don't understand what you mean, love. Milah, I don't need anything but you. Stay here. _Please_, stay here," he said teetering closely to the brink of begging. Captain Jones did not beg, but for Milah, _Killian_ would do anything.

"It's not my place to explain, Killian. That is for your final caller to reveal. I'm here to show you what's been going on around you- what you have been too blinded by anger to see. Come," she said extending her hand down to him.

Killian was uneasy. This exchange with Milah wasn't what he had hoped it would be. The passion and forceful dynamic of their relationship seemed restrained; instead, they were comfortable and loving, but distant. He rose from the bed and followed behind as she led him to the ladder in his cabin. Before she ascended though, she halted abruptly and leaned over his desk. Killian walked around to the other side to see what had captured her attention. Milah was staring down at her sketchbook, which lay open on his desk turned to a drawing of the Jolly Roger's deck. She smiled and started flipping through the pages. Killian felt a tad easier at seeing her smile. He had been flipping through the illustrations the day before, feeling as if he could hold onto a piece of her by memorizing every detail of her talented sketches.

Milah flipped to a sketch of a monkey and burst into laughter. "Do you remember this day, Killian?" she asked with a mischievous grin on her face. Killian shook his head in exasperation before letting out an annoyed, but somewhat amused huff. "How could I forget being attacked by a bloody demon?" His words only seemed to encourage Milah's fit of giggles.

"It was an innocent monkey, it just-" she began before being cut off by an obviously offended Killian.

"Innocent! You call biting me innocent?"

Milah countered immediately in a somewhat scolding tone. "You tried to take away his food,"

"Has your memory gone soft in the afterlife, love? That was my fruit that he stole. Bloody beast."

Milah shook her head in mock disapproval and continued to laugh. "_Child_," she teased.

Killian gave her a guilty smile before reaching over and flipping the page again. "Let's find a more pleasant sketch to reminisce over, shall we?"

A sketch of a tropical island on the horizon evoked the happy memory of Killian and Milah spending a week together alone on a small, remote island, drinking, laughing, and making love in celebration of three years together. A few pages after was the drawing of an ornate vessel, clearly the flagship of some kingdom's flotilla. Killian smirked down at it recalling the ship with pride. The Jolly, his marvel of a ship, outran and outgunned the opulent vessel, leaving the crew at his mercy. Killian, Milah, and his men relieved the vessel of all of its supplies, which included some valuable jewels in transit to the rulers of a nearby kingdom. Killian and his crew dined like kings themselves for many months after. The two sat together at the desk for a long while smiling, laughing, and recalling fondly their time together. The moment felt like a happy goodbye of sorts, but Killian quickly pushed that thought from his mind.

"I wish we could stay here like this, but I wasn't sent to reminisce, Killian. Let's go," Milah proclaimed, rising from the desk and climbing the ladder to the deck above. Killian took a deep breath; he hadn't stepped foot on the deck, seen any of his crew aside from Smee, since Milah's death. He exhaled and climbed the ladder nervously, anxious to see how he would be greeted by the crew.

Killian stood firmly above deck, moving with ease. As with Liam, the pain in his arm ceased upon Milah's arrival. He felt instantly more alive when he stood above the deck. The salt air of the sea filled his nose and the calming sound of waves crashing against the Jolly Roger soothed him. Despite the late hour, most of Killian's thirteen crewmen were still on deck preparing the ship. To a stranger, the crew of the Jolly Roger was an interesting bunch to behold. None of them seemed to quite belong. They were a mismatched group of men all from different backgrounds gathered together for a common goal. Tonight they all wore matching worrisome frowns. The men were conversing in low murmurs, too quiet for Killian to discern their words. "What are you all doing above deck?" he called out to them.

Milah shook her head putting a hand on his shoulder. "They can't hear you, Killian, or see you. As far as they're concerned, you're still stewing below deck in your cabin."

Killian began to approach two of his most loyal crewmen who were deeply immersed in conversation: Mason, a man who had been with Killian since their navy days, and Billy, a newer recruit of about seventeen with boyish features and nativity befitting his age.

Mason had a hand placed gently on Billy's shoulder and seemed to be reassuring the clearly upset lad. Billy's was staring down at the deck his hand placed on his face in a gesture of defeat.

"You weren't here when he lost Liam, Billy, so I can understand your doubt, but I assure you this is how the captain grieves. Give him some more time and then he'll come back to us ready to set sail again. Just you wait," Mason assured a confident note to his voice.

Killian smiled down at the two. He was touched by Mason's words and clear faith in his captain, but he was also quite affected by their relationship. Billy joined up with the crew about a year ago after the death of his mother. Mason had immediately taken the boy under his wing acting as more of a father than fellow shipmate. The two reminded Killian of Liam and himself. Killian watched the two talk for a few minutes, guilt washing over him as Mason continued to assure Billy of their captain's reliability. Of all the crewmen, Billy idolized Killian the most.

"You've always been his hero, Killian. Ever since we met him at that tavern, he's wanted to be just like his captain," Milah said as she smiled down at the young man. If Mason was Billy's father aboard the ship, Milah was most definitely his mother. Killian could tell by the look on her face that she missed Killian's crew almost as much as she had missed him.

Killian answered her back in a low tone. "I've let him down. I've let them all down. I don't deserve to have a crew of such faithful men." He was ashamed of himself. Milah's death was devastating to him, but Killian should have realized that the loss of Milah and now the apparent abandonment of their captain would also leave the crew reeling.

Milah opened her mouth to speak, but snapped it shut quickly, clearly thinking better of arguing with Killian. Instead, she ushered Killian towards the bow of the ship where Foggerty was lounging, one leg swinging off the side of the ship, the other pressed up to his chest. He was clutching a bottle of wine and staring out at the sea, a troubled look on his face. A short man who was nearly as wide as he was tall approached Foggerty and took a seat at his side.

"How go the preparations on the brace?" Foggerty asked in his raspy voice after swallowing a large mouthful of his wine; he held it tightly to him as if it were a treasure.

The bulky man, Turely, fiddled with his hands as he answered. "I've just heard back from the smith; the brace should be ready by morning," he replied with a nod before adding, "he's made the strap size adjustable to account for the swelling."

Foggerty shook his head, pleased with the information, but still obviously distressed by his thoughts. "Good, that should help ease his pain a tad, though I don't know if he'll ever fully recover. Not after losing Milah."

Turley stayed silent for a moment, pulling out his own flask before turning back to Foggerty. "You joined up right after his brother's passing, aye?"

"Indeed I did," Foggerty responded taking another gulp of his wine. At this rate, he would drain the bottle quite soon.

Turley continued in a murmur, seemingly nervous about posing his next question. "How was he then, just after the death I mean?"

Foggerty pressed his lips together in a tight line as he thought over the answer. He exhaled loudly before answering, "Angry."

Both men quieted after that and just stared out at the water, drinking liberally.

Killian was looking down at his feet, unsure of how to react to their conversation or the exchange between Mason and Billy. He hadn't expected any of this from his crew. The normally jovial, but ruthless when necessary, pirates had abandoned their stoic natures and were instead consoling each other. Even more surprising to Killian was their concern for him. The men were devoutly loyal to their captain, Killian expected nothing less. However, he had always assumed the crew was mainly faithful to him because he was a skilled captain who often found ample riches. Yet, here they were waiting patiently for him to grieve, when it was obvious that they would not be off causing trouble for enemy kingdoms or seeking treasure anytime soon.

Milah's words roused him from his thoughts. "They're all worried about you because they care. You think you're alone Killian, but you're not. These men will follow you on your journey," she said in a soft, reassuring tone as she grabbed his hand and led him back to the ladder descending into his cabin. Milah smiled as she took one last look at the deck and the crew before descending into the captain's quarters.

Once they were both standing firmly below deck Milah wrapped her arms tightly around Killian before tilting her head up and placing a gentle, loving kiss on his lips. She met his eyes, staring longingly. Killian's heart rate quickened as he began to panic. He knew what this was, the look on Milah's face betraying her intentions: she was saying goodbye. Milah spoke in a soft hush, bringing him from his thoughts. "There will be a time in your life when you think revenge is the only motivation you have, but that's not true. No matter what has happened and will happen in your life, hope will always be your driving factor. You must always hold on to hope, my love."

"Hope for what," Killian said in a tone that was more defiant than inquisitive.

Milah gave him a stern, but playful glare "You shall see my love, soon enough." She turned to look about the room, her eyes seeming to take in all the details one last time as if to say farewell before she stepped out of their embrace and vanished from sight.

Killian stood alone in the middle of his cabin, his arms frozen in place where they were previously around Milah. He couldn't acknowledge that she had just left. He would never see her again, but he couldn't allow himself to think that; he wasn't ready to accept the reality of their situation. Instead, he reclined back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He focused on steadying his heavy breathing and concentrating on the contours of the beams on the ceiling. Killian refused to feel at all; he was dead inside.

He lay like that for quite some time before he caught a blur of golden movement from the corner of his eye. The third caller, he thought. He sat up with a pained moan and turned to see the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes upon. Killian's mouth dropped open and his eyes widened as he took in the woman's golden curls and piercing green eyes. She was smiling down at him affectionately, which should have felt strange considering he'd never met her before. Killian didn't mind though; in fact, he liked it. The moonlight hit her in such a way that her entire being practically glowed. He stared at her in awe and bewilderment, forgetting for the time the pain in his arm and his heart. She was an angel sent to him by the gods. An angel sent to _save _him.


	4. Chapter 4

Killian sat there silently staring, probably looking like a git, he thought, but he was too captivated to care. The sound of her laugh, _gods_ she had a beautiful laugh, pulled him from his daze. "Do you find something amusing, lass?" he asked with the quirk of his eyebrow.

"Actually yes: your face," she deadpanned. "We've met for the first time _three_ times now, and you always make that same face," she responded in a teasing tone.

He stared at her for a moment, mouth hung open, but this time in complete confusion. _Met before_. _Three times_. What the blazes did any of that mean?

He had just met this woman, _angel_, but he could already tell so much about her. The way she held herself, body straight, shoulders back, and feet firm showed she was a tough lass, a fighter. But, she was clearly comfortable around him, and she had a good sense of humor; he could tell she was a woman he could have a good time with. If he got his way, a woman he _would_ have a good time with.

Killian immediately felt guilty. He shouldn't have these feelings. He loves _Milah_. He is devoted to _Milah_. But there was something about this woman that just made him feel so alive, so hopeful.

He looked up to see the golden-haired beauty staring at him with her head slightly tilted a smile pulling at her lips. She was giving him a moment to process, as if she knew him, _understood him_, before she continued. "I know you're confused about all of this," she said as she gestured between them. "All you need to know is that you have a long, difficult road ahead, but it _will _work out. You _will_ find your way, Killian," she said in a reassuring tone. There was almost a hint of love in her voice, but how could that be? Killian didn't even know this woman.

What she was saying confused him; it frightened him, not that he would ever admit it. He shook his head as if to shrug off her deep words and changed the subject. "So, you know who I am, and you haven't even told me your name," he said in a playful tone.

She returned his mischievous grin, obviously willing to play along. "What fun would that be?"

Surely she couldn't be an angel. Angels were serious, stern beings. Liam and Milah weren't angels, and if she was the third in that group, she must be a normal person. This woman intrigued him. He wanted to know more about her. He _needed_ to know more. His voice turned serious, "Come on, lass. I want to know."

She paused for a moment, clearly thinking over his request before responding. "Sw-" she stopped and chuckled to herself before continuing, "Emma. My name is Emma."

"Emma…Emma," he repeated. The name felt good, it felt _right_, coming from his lips. "So who are you then, Emma? You're supposed to be a ghost, right?"

She paused for a second, biting her lip as she tried to come up with an answer for him. "Well…sort of," she began. "Technically, I haven't been born yet. Actually," she said with a slightly amused expression, "my parents haven't even been born. I'm more of a glimpse of the woman to come."

Killian let out an annoyed huff. This was becoming more absurd by the minute. "Wait, you haven't been born yet? What? Who are you then? How will I know you in the future? None of this makes any sense at all; you're daft!" He was standing now glaring at her with slight anger, but really he couldn't be angry with the angel, _woman_, she's not an angel he reminded himself, _woman_ in front of him.

Emma held her hands out in front of her, gesturing for him to stop. "Cool it, pirate. You'll understand later, but now, we have somewhere to be."

He was frowning and staring out the window. This had been one hell of a night. At least the visits from the ghosts, or glimpses, ceased his pain if only for a short while.

"Hello? Are you listening?" she asked tapping her foot on the ground and giving him a chastising look.

Gods this one was a spitfire, but he liked it, _he liked her_, and more than he was willing to admit. He smiled back despite himself. "You have my full attention, lass."

Emma gave him a challenging smirk in return. "Good. Let's go, _captain_." She held her hand out for him to take.

Killian walked over to her cautiously and slowly reached out to grab her hand. Her hand was warm and soft, but by no means delicate. It was obviously a hand that had seen hard work and, knowing her grit, battle. Her hand was a perfect fit in his own. Killian's cabin quickly faded from sight and when he stole himself away from the sight of their joined hands, he looked up to see that they were standing at the edge of a grassy yard on a warm, sunny day.

The scene was a beautiful one, a happy one. They were looking out onto the large backyard of a modest sized home. The bright sun and blue, cloudless sky filled Killian with warmth. The smell of food cooking invaded his nose causing him to absentmindedly lick his lips. He looked around and spotted the source of the smell. At the front of the yard, right next to the house, a man with his back turned to Emma and Killian seemed to be cooking some food, foreign to Killian, on an outdoor stove unlike any Killian had ever seen.

The yells and laughter of children running about the yard captured Killian's attention. He turned his head to see three boys of varying ages chasing each other around the yard. The oldest one of the group was nearly a man, probably in his later teens. The middle one had light brown hair that perfectly matched that of the man cooking. He was probably seven or eight, maybe; Killian didn't exactly spend time around children and had a hard time determining his age. The smallest boy looked a few years younger than the middle one, perhaps four or five. He had dark, unruly hair and a bright, toothy grin.

Killian snapped his attention back to Emma and himself only to notice that their hands were still joined. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away, letting hers fall to her side. "Where are we? I mean, when are we?" he asked, quickly correcting himself. After three visits, he finally had this down.

Emma was looking about fondly at the sight before them. She stayed silent for a few moments before finally responding, never stealing her eyes away from the scene in the yard. "This is the time I come from. I'm a glimpse of that woman up there," she said as she pointed to a version of herself that had just come to stand next to the man cooking at the strange stove. Her back was turned to them as well, but her golden tresses were unmistakable.

Killian turned his head to see a future version of himself walk out from the house and onto the yard where the children were playing. "Hey, look at me, devilishly handsome as always," he said proudly as he pointed to himself. His hand and face fell slightly though when realization started to set in.

"Wait, how can this be? If you haven't even been born yet, how can I be at this time with you, at my same age?" he asked still confused beyond belief.

Emma didn't offer an explanation as he had hoped, instead she simply answered, "Like I said, you have a _long_ journey ahead of you."

He gritted his teeth in frustration. His experiences with Liam and Milah had all made sense, but this visit to the future left him bewildered. How could any of this be possible? Why was he here?

He sighed in frustration and went back to examining the scene in front of him. Perhaps after studying the people, Killian could make sense of this glimpse. As Killian looked back over to Emma and the man at the stove, he noticed a small woman just a few feet away from them. She had short, black hair and was sitting in a chair overlooking the yard. In her lap was a black-haired little girl, a toddler, wiggling about, trying to break away and join the boys.

Who were these people, he asked himself, and who were the boys playing together? He turned his attention back to the group to see himself, older yet basically the same age, haul the youngest boy up and place him atop his shoulders. His future-self proceeded to gallop around the yard, spurred on by the giggles of the little boy. The boy's laughter sounded like beautiful music to Killian's ears, filling him with happiness.

Killian smiled at the scene. Never in his life did he imagine himself with children, especially enjoying their company, but there he was running about like a git all to make that little boy happy. And really, Killian couldn't blame the future version of himself. He didn't know the boy, but already he was filled with a sense of longing, like he wanted to be that future man. He wanted to be playing with the lad, running about and acting silly.

The man and the lad came galloping up closer to where Killian and Emma were standing, giving Killian a better look at the boy. He took in the lad's piercing green eyes and turned to Emma, mouth open to speak, but when he caught sight of her eyes he shook his head and snapped back to the boy again. It clicked.

Killian stayed silent, staring at the boy as he began to make sense of the scene, until he finally spoke. "The lad, he's yours, _ours_, isn't he?" he asked not a twinge of fear or doubt, but acceptance in his voice.

"Now you're catching on, pirate," she said with a teasing grin and the raise of an eyebrow. Gods he could banter with this woman all day.

The Killian of this time stilled in front of them, just a few feet from where they were standing, and pulled the little boy from his shoulders, placing him gently onto the ground below.

"Will you take me sailing, Daddy? Please," the lad pleaded.

His father bent down to his level, patting him lovingly on the head. "Not today, Liam, but I will tomorrow. I promise."

Killian froze in place next to Emma, the remainder of their conversation washing over him completely. _Liam_. They had named their boy Liam. He bit his lip tightly, hard enough to draw blood, and blinked furiously as he stared down at his feet, fighting off his emotions.

Emma placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, patting Killian gently to calm him. "The name suits him you know. He's strong and stubborn and he loves the sea," she said, pride emitting off of her.

Killian took a deep breath and schooled his features before turning to look into her eyes. Beautiful eyes to match a beautiful face and even though he had just met her, he could tell they matched her beautiful heart too. "As soon as I'm back, Emma, I'm heading this way. I'll come find you, and we'll have this life together," he said with a determined nod as he stared longingly at the scene before them.

She sighed and continued in a guilty voice. "You won't remember any of this when you wake up."

Killian stood in silence, stunned by her revelation, before firing back in anger. "What? Well what was the point then? All of this. Why bother?"

"You just needed to be reminded of what's important and what's at stake if you throw your life away," Emma said firmly. "If you remember this, it could alter the timeline. You won't remember these visits when you wake up, Killian, but the feelings they gave you of love, of _hope_, those will remain."

He shut his eyes, trying to process what he had just heard. It made sense: if he remembered this experience, it could, and likely would, affect his decisions. Still, he didn't want to lose his brother's reassuring words, his chance to say goodbye to Milah, his glimpse of a happy future.

"I don't want to forget. I don't want to leave. I want to stay here, with them, with _him_." Killian replied just above a whisper. He felt a mix of sadness and guilt. This is the life he should have had with Milah. He shouldn't be wishing to stay with this child, one that's not hers.

Emma looked at him with understanding and care in her eyes. "This isn't real, Killian, not yet, but if you hold onto hope, it can be."

Killian nodded his head in agreement before asking, "What do I do to make this happen then?"

"Well, you can't kill yourself," she said with a sarcastic tease. She was trying to ease the heaviness, the seriousness of their conversation. Killian was grateful for her efforts. "You have to keep going; you have to trust your gut," she continued.

"Alright," he said resolutely. Killian promised himself that even though he would forget this scene, this experience, he would not let this journey be in vain. He would keep going. He would see this day again, but not as a bystander. He would live it.

They were silent for a few more moments just gazing out at the yard and the happy family before them. Little Liam ran off to rejoin the other two boys as his mother, the Emma of this time, approached his father. The two started to walk off as she leaned in to whisper something to him.

Killian couldn't hear what she said and went to approach the couple. The Emma standing at his side grabbed his arm to keep him from moving, giving him a nearly imperceivable nod to signal him to stay.

Killian looked back at the scene to see his future-self smiling from ear to ear. He then scooped his Emma up into a tight hug before placing a passionate kiss on her lips.

"What did she say to him? What's going on?" Killian asked the Emma standing beside him, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Emma smiled at the sight of the happy couple before turning to answer Killian. "That's a surprise for another day. Come on Killian; it's time for us to leave."

She made a motion to leave, but Killian didn't budge, desperate to remain. "Please, let me stay. I want to be that man. I want to stay here with you, with Liam," he paused, his voice shaky as he tried to calm himself. He continued in a low, defeated hush. "I promised to take him sailing."

"You will," she said with a confident nod as she extended her arm beckoning him to take her hand.

Killian turned his head to look back at himself; he was walking hand in hand with Emma, a joyous expression on his face. He looked over to see his son running around the yard at lightning speed, nearly catching up to the older boys, little Liam's laugh echoing through the air.

Killian's heart broke as he felt a loss for something he never truly had. Not yet, anyway. Slowly, as if to delay the inevitable by a bit, Killian took Emma's hand. Suddenly, the bright sunny day was replaced with the dark of night. The beautiful grass and open, blue sky gave way to creaky floorboards and a confining ceiling. He was back.

Emma made to break their hands, but before she could, Killian enveloped her in a tight, nearly crushing, hug. He cradled her golden hair with his good hand and laid his head on her shoulders, tears escaping of their own accord. He was too devastated to care. He worked so hard at putting up a face in front of Liam and Milah, hesitant to show weakness in front of them. But for some reason even though he technically just met her, Killian felt a connection with this woman. He felt inclined to tear down all his walls and invite Emma in, consequences be damned.

He held her tightly to him, his thoughts tormenting him. This was absurd; he barely knew Emma. Yet he felt such a strong bond with her that it was enough to make him almost forget his pain, his hatred, his quest for revenge entirely. Part of him felt guilty for being so willing to cast aside his loyalty to Milah, but another part of him just needed this woman, his golden-haired savior, to stay.

After a few minutes, what felt like far too long for a hug, but also wasn't nearly long enough, Emma pulled back from their embrace. She brought her hands up to cup Killian's face and stared deeply, _lovingly,_ into his eyes. She traced her thumb over his scar.

Killian's raspy voice broke the long silence. "How will I find you then, in the future?"

She smiled at him with a glint in her eyes. "You won't-"

He pulled back a bit, shock and panic mixed in his voice. "But-"

"I'll find you," she promised as she leaned in to place a chaste kiss on his lips. She stared at him for a second more before pulling away and disappearing into thin air.

Killian slowly made his way back to his bed, the blasted pain already returning to the end of his arm. He sat in his bed before lying back and closing his eyes, the scene from before of the grassy yard and children playing, flashing in his mind. All thoughts of ending his life gone, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Everything would be alright. He would set sail tomorrow just as he had planned and one day, someday, he would be with them again, his golden-haired angel and their beautiful son. He drifted away, their smiling faces the last image he saw before sleep consumed him.

* * *

The bright light of day streamed in from outside, shining onto Killian's closed eyes. He awoke with a start the name "Liam" leaving his lips in a cry.

"Alright captain?" Smee implored. His crew member sat idly by in a chair watching over Killian, making sure he was alright.

Groggily and suddenly feeling embarrassed, Killian replied, "I'm fine Smee. Just a dream about," he paused. He couldn't remember his dream, but it must have been a nice one as he felt a great sense of longing for it. He remembered the name Liam. "My brother. I must have been dreaming about my brother. I'm fine Smee. Leave now. I told you, I've no need of a nanny."

"Yes captain, I just came to inform you that they've finished your brace and preparations on your hook," the man replied timidly.

Killian rolled over and saw the brace and hook lying on the bed stand, carefully placed there by Smee. With the final preparations completed, Killian could begin his journey. "I'll leave you now, Captain Jones."

"Hook," Killian replied with a feral growl from the still too present pain. "It's Captain Hook now. Tell the men and don't forget."

Smee went to ascend the ladder, but paused at the bottom and turned back to his captain. "Sir, after you kill the crocodile, what then?" he asked.

Killian pondered the question for a minute trying to find the right words. "_Something_…something better, I hope," he replied in a low hush more to himself than to his crew member. Smee nodded slowly and climbed the ladder, leaving Killian sitting at the edge of his bed.

He stood up to look out at the sea from his window. Killian couldn't remember his dream, but whatever it had been, it left him with a reassuring feeling in his gut that he would find happiness again, or perhaps, _it would find him._

* * *

**A/N: As promised, we have arrived at the Captain Swan portion of the tale. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a review; I would love to hear your thoughts/reactions. This isn't the end though! There's still one more chapter to come. Stay tuned, folks!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Well, the time has come for the story to end. I hope you all enjoy this ending/epilogue.**

* * *

Killian thoroughly enjoyed having Henry home. Now that he was a junior in college, Henry returned home to Storybrooke less often than his family would hope, but attendance at the annual Labor Day cookout and family weekend was a must. Killian missed his step-son while he was away, so it was nice to have the lad back. The best part though was Emma. His dear wife was her happiest when she had both her sons home and living under her roof. She practically glowed with joy and contentment, which delighted Killian.

He entered the kitchen of the cozy home he and Emma had bought together just before their wedding. The house was located right near Storybrooke's port giving it a beautiful seaside view. Killian saw Emma standing at the counter finishing her preparations on the pasta salad and other foods she was cooking for the festivities. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms tightly around her middle, nuzzling his head against her shoulder as he placed a loving kiss to her neck. She giggled as she moved her neck away, nudging him in the side.

"You know your scruff tickles," she said with a playful note in her voice.

Killian moved to stand at her side, quirking an eyebrow at her as he retorted, "Why do you think I do it, love?" He glanced down to examine the food she was readying. "Mm, that looks good, darling," he continued.

Emma gave him a stern look and swatted his hand away as he reached for a noodle. "Don't you dare. You're as bad as Henry."

Killian simply let out a chuckle before moving to peek out the window. He spotted David at the grill and frowned. "Love, your father is grilling…and he's unsupervised."

Emma let out a groan before meeting her husband's worried gaze. Their last big family cookout had been to celebrate the Fourth of July, and while grilling, David had started a rather impressive fire, one that could outshine any firework display. "I'm done anyway," she replied. "I'll go out and watch him. Bring out the food, please." Emma put a few dishes in the sink before heading out at a quick pace to ensure her father didn't cause another inferno.

Killian grabbed the dishes Emma had prepared and headed out to follow her. He placed them on the picnic table outside before standing and admiring the sight. Emma was monitoring David at the grill, though she did so discreetly by feigning interest in his barbequing technique. The smell of cooking hamburgers and hotdogs filled the air. To his relief, Killian didn't catch the scent of burning food, _yet_.

Killian looked over to see Mary Margaret sitting in a lawn chair looking out onto the yard with little Eva in her lap. Killian adored that little girl. Ever since she had been born, his heart had ached for a daughter of his own: a little lass who looked like Emma, one who he could spoil and cherish. The sound of yelling and laughter shook him from his thoughts. He refocused his gaze towards his large backyard to see Henry, Neal, and Liam engaged in a heated game of tag. He let out a hardy chuckle when he saw Henry make a dive for Neal's leg, only to miss him by a hair.

Liam didn't look as though he was having as much fun as the other two. He was much smaller than them, and thus he ended up being "it" far more often than they did. Killian strode onto the lawn and approached his son. "Care for a ride around the yard?" he asked with a gleam in his eyes.

Liam's face lit up and filled with a toothy grin as he jumped in place. "Yes! Yes!" he cried.

Killian hoisted his son up and placed him securely on his shoulders. He let out a grunt at the weight; his little lad was growing. It seemed like just yesterday Killian had found out he was going to be a father, and now his little rascal was four-years-old. Once Killian had a firm hold of Liam's legs, he proceeded to gallop around the yard spurred to trot faster by the joyous giggles pouring from his son. "Faster, Daddy, faster!" he cried in between fits of laughter. No matter how often he heard his son's laughter or saw his little lad smile, the experience never failed to warm his heart. Never in his life did Killian think he would see a day like this, a day where he had a loving family of his own. Now here he was prancing around like a fool, and he did so happily all because of the little lad, the precious gift, bouncing joyfully up on his shoulders.

Killian jogged around the yard, completing quite a few laps before he had been thoroughly exhausted by the exertion. He halted at the edge of the yard before removing Liam from his shoulders and plopping him softly onto the ground. Once standing on steady feet, Liam looked up at his father with a pleading expression on his face. "Will you take me sailing, Daddy? Please," he asked as he beamed up at his father.

Killian bent down to his level, hand brushing his tousled black hair as he admired his son's emerald eyes. He was an attractive mix of both parents, a living representation of their love for each other. Liam had Emma's eyes, which pleased Killian greatly. Even though he had only known those eyes for mere years, Killian felt as though they had been with him forever, giving him hope and purpose. Killian smiled at his son and responded softly, "Not today, Liam, but I will tomorrow. I promise."

Liam gave him a small pout, but before he could protest, Killian continued. "We will, I promise. We'll bring Henry along too, and Neal and Roland if you like. We'll practice tying knots and learning the constellations, and I'll even let you take the helm. How does that sound, lad?" Killian asked with a bright grin. He knew just how to win his son over.

Liam thought for a moment before answering. "That sounds great, but…maybe we can go alone this time- just you and me?"

"Aye, that sounds perfect. Just you and me, lad," he responded as he leaned over to press a gentle kiss to his son's forehead. Killian rose to feet and gave Liam a pat on the back, encouraging him to run off and rejoin his brother and uncle.

He turned to walk toward the patio when he was met face to face with Emma. Her voice was low as she engaged him, "You're such a good father. You know that right?" she asked as she gazed fondly into his eyes.

He shook his head, "Well, he's an easy boy to parent," he responded lowering his head in modesty. After all his years as a good man, a hero, Killian still hadn't learned how to accept a compliment.

Emma nodded her head in agreement. Their son was definitely a well-behaved child. She grabbed his hand, interlacing their fingers, before walking off slowly towards the house. "I wanted to wait to tell you in a special way, but I just can't stand it anymore," she said with a knowing smile on her face.

_Tell him what_, Killian thought as his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He gave Emma a nod, silently prompting her to continue. She froze in place and turned to face him before continuing. "I went to see Dr. Whale yesterday, and I received some _good news_," she said, a bright smile overtaking her face.

Killian's mouth fell open slightly as his mind fought to understand what he had just heard. He and Emma had been trying for some time, but even so he was still in a pleasant state of shock. "_Good news_? Really? You're sure? You're pregnant?" he asked, the questions flying from his mouth as excitement overtook him.

Emma nodded her head vigorously, before biting her lip in a precious grin that still managed to take Killian's breath away even after all these years. "I'm not very far along, just ten weeks, so I want to wait just a little longer before telling the family."

"We're having another child. I…I'm speechless," Killian responded, his mouth still open in a surprised smile as he gazed at Emma with loving eyes, admiring his treasure of a wife. Overwhelmed with emotion, he lifted her up in the air before pulling her to him in a crushing hug. He captured her lips in a passionate kiss, loving and adoring her with his mouth before she pulled back staring contently into his eyes. He leaned in to place one last, gentle peck against her lips before grabbing her by the hand to walk off again. Killian wanted to stay there and embrace all day, but he didn't want to draw attention to them. They would inform the family of the new addition on another day.

As they walked off together, Killian's skin crawled and he was overcome with the eerie feeling of being watched. He turned his head back to peek at where they had been standing, but saw only the empty space next to their yard and a pair of bushes. He paused for a second, eyes furrowed, before Emma tugged his arm, urging him to follow. He brushed off the odd feeling and walked along happily with his wife.

* * *

The family enjoyed a peaceful evening together munching on their hotdogs and hamburgers and talking excitedly about the first two weeks of Henry's new semester at college. Naively, Henry let it slip that he had a new girlfriend, so Killian and David hounded him relentlessly for details. Emma intervened to try and silence the two, but her attempt was feeble, likely due to her own curiosity about the girl. After dinner, David and Snow departed with Neal and little Eva, leaving Emma and Killian at home with their boys.

The family began to wind down as the night progressed. Henry and Liam played board games for a while until it was time for Liam to go to sleep. Killian and Emma tucked him in as they did every night. With Liam asleep, Emma and Killian had time to catch up with Henry. After some prodding, he begrudgingly shared a few more details about his new girlfriend. Killian couldn't take his eyes off Emma the whole night. She was always so radiant, glowing with joy when Henry was home. Though, she could also be experiencing that famous pregnancy glow, and that thought elated him. He couldn't believe they were having another baby. His wouldn't have thought it possible, but with the news, his already seemingly perfect family had become even better. After chatting for a while, Henry excused himself to go to his room, likely playing video games, or surfing the internet, or _gods_ know what youths did these days. Henry's odd habits were still a mystery to Killian. Killian walked with him upstairs, wishing to peek in on little Liam.

Killian popped his head into Liam's room one last time to check in on his boy. His son lay sleeping soundly in his bed, his messy black hair going in every direction and a bright, sleepy smile was spread across his angelic face. He would be a big brother soon. Killian wondered how Liam would react to that. Would he be upset at not being the youngest, and thus not getting the most attention, anymore? No, no, Liam would be an excellent older brother. He would be caring and nurturing, and tough when needed, just like his namesake. Killian leaned against the doorframe, simply content to stand there and gaze fondly at his boy before he finally took his leave.

He descended the stairs, heading to join Emma in the kitchen when he heard a loud knock on the door. "Who could that be at this hour?" Emma sounded from the kitchen, her voice muffled from the distance.

"I'll get it," Killian called as he walked to the entryway of their home. He grasped the knob and opened the door only to find Blue standing there smiling at him. _Blue? _

"Ah," he said, failing to hide the surprise in his voice. "Blue…what brings you here?"

"Hello, Killian. I've come to speak with you," she replied.

What? Why would Blue want to speak with him? Emma perhaps, but him, no. Killian had never personally interacted with Blue here in Storybrooke, aside from being in the same room as her at town gatherings. He had only ever seen her once in the Enchanted Forest and that was during his time-traveling escapade with Emma when Blue had been in her fairy-form. Though, she looked rather more like a _bug_, Killian mused.

"I have a gift for you Killian," she continued, rousing him from his thoughts. "I've been holding onto this for quite a while, and now the time has come when I can finally return it to you?"

"What the blazes are you talking about? _Return_ to me? What have you taken?" he asked sheer confusion etched across his face. Killian opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could, Blue pulled her wand out from her sleeve and flicked it in the air above Killian's head. Immediately his mind was filled with the memories of a night long ago, a night he had_ thought_ he spent sleeping somberly in a drunken stupor.

As the memories flooded into his mind, Killian saw Liam's husky figure giving him a firm pat on the back as he assured his younger brother that he would always be proud of him, sailor or pirate. Killian saw Milah's beautiful face as she stared at him lovingly and encouraged him to open up his heart again. He saw this day from a different spot, where he was standing beside a glimpse of Emma, gazing fondly at their son. Killian was admiring his emerald eyes. Those eyes had stayed with him all this time. Liam's eyes, Emma's eyes, he'd always kept the image of them tucked away in his heart. Somewhere deep beneath the surface, part of him always remembered Emma and Liam. They were the ones who would never leave; they were his happy ending, his _hope_.

* * *

**So ends my first ever multi-part fic. Thank you all so much for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing this fic. Your support has meant so much to me. Please leave one last review to let me know how you liked the ending and the story overall. I'll be back with more stories soon!**


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